The Brighter Side of Things
by Dr1ft3r0I
Summary: No matter what dimesion you're from, grief is the same. But can grief unite two conflicting souls? WARNING, contains dark and mature content, i.e., this is not for children!


The Brighter Side of Things

Loss

"So Sarah, how'd the team do? Did we get in the top ten?" Fifteen year old Tom Angora asked his twin sister over his cell phone. The New York native was currently sitting in his (as well as his sister's) room, watching the latest anime and drawing at an easel tucked into a corner of the room.

"Tom, we didn't make it to the top ten," Sarah responded, her normal happy-go-lucky voice absent. Tom sighed, disappointed at the news. "We are the champions, my frie-end," Sarah sang to him.

Tom instantly picked up the relevance of the verse of song that his sister had just sung. His team, national cross-country champions!

"That's great, Sarah! I mean, dang if it weren't for my ankle, I'd be celebrating with you," Tom said regretfully. A few days ago while practicing for the nationals, Tom had accidentally twisted and sprained his left ankle. "But hey, remember what yesterday was by any chance?" Tom asked his sister innocently.

Sarah snorted over the phone. "Of course I do stupid! It was our fifteenth birthday yesterday. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I got some cards that might help your favorite deck. Including the one that you never seem to get," Tom said the last part to his sister in a ridiculous sing-song voice.

"Tom! You're not supposed to tell people what they got on their birthday. And speaking of which, your present is on its way to you right now," Sarah told her twin with glee. "Anyway, me, mom, and Jonah are almost at the airport so I'm…Mom look out!" she yelled out frantically.

The last thing Tom heard from his sister's cell was the terrible screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal, and his sister's scream.

_Digital World_

The Viximon that was bounding its way towards a village hut was small, even for its species. And unlike many of her compatriots, her fur was more on the bronzed side of gold, and if her eyes had been open to see the tree that she was soon to run into, one would have noticed that instead of the icy blue that she'd have as a Renamon, this Viximon had eyes the color of honey, and contained just as much sweetness.

Alas, said Viximon ran into said tree, sending the small Digimon sprawling onto the ground, the foxlike creature now starting to cry her eyes-and lungs-out.

In no time at all, something came and scooped up the Viximon, cradling the Beginner Level Digimon in its arms. The Viximon opened her eyes to the sight of her mother, a Renamon who instead of the stereotypically stoic expression most Renamon were known for, had a small smile of comforting understanding.

The Viximon almost immediately stopped crying she was held by her mother, her nose twitching in discomfort at the pain she was experiencing. As the pair walked – well, in the Viximon's case, carried – to the village, they didn't notice until the last second a pair of shadows flying on the ground. The Renamon narrowed hers eyes as she looked up. She gasped in horror as the village below started going up in flames.

Putting her daughter on the ground, the Renamon gave her child one last command as she pointed to a small, dense bush.

"Hide here until this is over, ok sweety?"

With that she bounded off, rushing to save the village. The Viximon whimpered as her mother ran out of sight. She quickly went into the bush to wait for her mother.

Minutes passed, and the sounds of the village burning and the screams of fellow villagers had grown somewhat…quieter, which the Viximon knew was unnatural. She perked up as she saw a figure walking down the path to her. The tiny Digimon wanted to believe that it was her mother, but the way that the figure was draped in a tattered cloak, the way it walked, and most importantly, the way the unseen aura roiled around it practically screamed _run away!_ to the poor creature.

It had nearly walked past her hiding place before it stopped. The Viximon stayed quiet, hoping that it had not seen her. Looking out the corner of her eyes, she saw that it had not moved a muscle; in fact, the only movement that the In-Training Level Digimon could see was the gradual rise and fall of its shoulders, which meant it was breathing.

"I'm sorry, little sister, but it had to be done."

The Viximon almost jumped in surprise as the figure turned its head towards her, flat grey eyes now boring straight into the depths of the tiny Digimon's soul. The Viximon gasped as she saw the face of her brother, a warrior that she hadn't seen in months, now battered, scared, and emotionally blank.

Now, the Viximon was frightened. She burst out of the bush as her brother spoke for the last time.

"Be strong, little sister. Be strong if you want to ever face my master. I'm sorry."

The digital sun burned red as the Viximon's life was destroyed beyond repair. It burned redder than the blood spilled.


End file.
